


The Cat Formerly Known As Prince

by ibided



Series: The Cat Formerly Known As Prince [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Lokitty, Shapeshifter Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:43:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibided/pseuds/ibided
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy is one of those people who likes to adopt strays. But will this stray be more trouble than he's worth?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This will be a series of (mostly) fun and fluffy one-shots from the lives of Darcy and Loki. Most will be short and sweet, but occasionally there might be something vaguely resembling a plot.<br/>They are all connected, but not in chronological order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cat Formerly Known As Prince

Darcy Lewis stood in her living room, hands on hips and eyes firmly fixed on the cat in front of her. She had adopted him some months earlier having become attached to the little creature skulking around her apartment building. He was all black except for the tiniest tips of gold on his ears, and his bright, piercing green eyes that seemed far too intelligent.

He was oddest cat Darcy had ever met, and that was saying something.

It wasn’t that he was weird or crazy the way cats often are; rather it was his lack of catty-ness that was strange. Like the way he liked his tea black with a little honey in it – just like Darcy did. Like the time Darcy had found a laser pointer and had tried to drive him nuts with it, but all he had done was give her That Look. 

Could cats normally roll their eyes? This one could, and did. Often.

She had named him Prince – or rather, she addressed him as Prince and he allowed it – and it suited him to a T. Every fur-covered inch of him had Attitude with a capital A. These days he seemed to have softened a bit towards Darcy, but Prince still managed to make her guests (not that she ever had many of those) feel uncomfortable with his scrutinising, analysing, judging green eyes. 

Those same eyes were now boring in to Darcy’s as she confronted him.

“So here’s the thing,” she said, “I have a theory, but before I tell you what it is, I want you to promise me that if I am right, you’ll tell me.” Darcy stubbornly ignored the little voice in her head that was reminding her that sane people don’t talk to cats expecting them to talk back. “And in return, I promise you that, if I am right,” she took a deep breath to steel her nerves, “I won’t reveal your identity or tell anyone about you – unless I have reason to fear for someone’s safety. Like mine, for example. Deal?”

The cat blinked and flicked his tail. 

“I’mma take that as a yes. So my theory is that you’re not actually a cat.” 

Prince blinked at her again.

“Well, you know, not originally,” Darcy amended. “I think that maybe – just maybe – you are actually Loki.”

Prince looked hard at her for a moment, then turned away from her and leaped up into his favourite seat on the couch. Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. 

Not disappointment. She was definitely not disappointed that her cat was just a cat. Nope. Not at all. She plopped herself down in her squishy recliner chair and buried her head in her hands. 

It was hard to identify exactly what it was that she felt next. A slight change in air pressure? A tickle at the back of her brain? A disturbance in the Force? Whatever it was, Darcy knew what she was going to see before she opened her eyes, though that didn’t stop her from blinking stupidly at the tall, leather-clad Asgardian prince/god being that now took up considerably more room in her apartment than he did a few seconds previously.

“Oh my God,” Darcy managed, totally not whimpering.

“Yes?” answered the Smirking Bastard.

“Loki.”

“Yes.” That smooth baritone was just going to kill her.

“My cat is Loki.”

The aforementioned Loki chuckled lightly at the little human before him. “How about I make you some tea? That usually calms you,” he suggested before standing (thank goodness he didn’t have that helmet on!) and heading into the kitchen. A surprisingly short time later he re-emerged with two steaming cups of tea, handed one to Darcy and sat back in his seat. Darcy studied the contents of her mug dubiously.

“Is it poisoned?” she asked nervously.

“Why in the nine realms would I do something like that?” He sounded almost appalled by the suggestion.

Darcy shrugged. “Why did you spend the last seven months living as a cat?”

Loki sipped his tea elegantly. “I have my reasons.”

“See? This is why I don’t trust you. You could ‘have your reasons’ for killing me, too.” She used sarcastic quotation marks and everything.

“That is true,” he allowed, “But if I wanted you dead do you really think I would be so unimaginative as to poison you?”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s real comforting.”

“I believe in debt repayment, Miss Lewis,” Loki said simply. “You have allowed me into your home, fed me and treated me well for the past seven months. I intend to repay that debt. Does that comfort you?”

Darcy considered for a moment. “Ummm… yes, for now. And it’s Darcy by the way.”

“As you wish, Darcy.” The smile he gave her was unnervingly sweet. “Now, I imagine you have some questions for me, and since I also have some questions for you I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

“Jeez, you make it sound like I’d be making a deal with the devil,” Darcy responded, sipping her tea. He was right, it was calming her down.

“Almost,” Loki chuckled again, but looked the picture of innocence. “I propose a question for a question.”

Darcy didn’t trust that face at all. This was the famed God of Mischief, God of Lies; a man – or space Viking alien being – who used his notorious silver tongue as his most potent weapon. A wise person would ponder his words very, very carefully. Then again, a wise person would have called S.H.I.E.L.D by now. Screw that.

With another sip of her tea Darcy drew on everything she had learnt as a Political Science major. “I’d like to make a counterproposal,” she suggested, bracing herself for the worst. “An answered question for an answered question. And we both promise to tell the truth.”

The trickster smiled. “And what if my promise itself is a lie?” 

“I could say the same thing,” Darcy quickly retorted.

“I would know if you were lying.”

“Not if I’m a better liar than you.”

“There are no better liars than me.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.” It was out of her mouth before she could think better of it. She could only hope that Loki would assume that she was referring to his run-in with the Black Widow, rather than the lie he was brought up on. But judging by the colour of his eyes, which now more closely resembled the clouds heralding a tornado than the clear emerald green they were previously, her hope was futile.

“But I suspect,” she scrambled for a distraction, “that although you are undoubtedly a liar and a trickster, oath-breaker is one title you wouldn’t claim.”

“Hmmm…” he smiled that disconcerting smile at her again. “You have a sharp tongue, Darcy. And with wit being such a rare commodity in this realm – or indeed any realm – I find all the more reason to allow you to live.” He settled back in his seat, regarding her imperiously over steepled fingers. Darcy had to bite back a giggle at how stereotypically villainous he looked. “Very well, I agree to your terms of an answered question for an answered question, and I give you my word that, for today, I will answer your questions truthfully or not at all.”

“Good. Then I promise the same.” Darcy took a deep breath.


End file.
